The Idiocy First Love Gave Me
by Meepyonnee
Summary: First love is a blessing to others, but a curse to most. -:- A series of unrelated one-shots ranging from Canon to AU. Anonymous characters.
1. Idiocy At Its Best

Disclaimer: Ghost Hunt is not mine.

Idiocy At Its Best

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_Dedicated to my idiot cousin, who fell head over heels way too soon._

-:-:-:-:-

It started with a bang.

Okay, not really.

Everything started actually with school. Whoopee.

School is… school, obviously. School being fun and all. Complete with acads and grouchy teachers.

Add the fact that the school I'm going to is college.

And in college, once you're late, you were never here.

With that, I skip my first class ever for the second term of my first year. For an hour and thirty minutes, I wandered the halls, bumped fists with fellow indolent students, and ate French fries. What can I say? I'm a teenager. Teenagers love fries.

For the hour and a half after the first one, I was faced with a predicament every student is thrown into; the predicament that is 'interacting with new classmates'.

Inside the room lies a whiteboard in front, several uncomfortable looking chairs in the middle, and a lonesome trashcan at the back. Inside the room lies strange faces, not a single one I recognize. Great.

It went on like that for weeks. Strange faces stayed strange, until one fateful day.

On that day, the damn professor for that class picked twelve students for an event associated with dancing and humiliation. Guess what. I was picked first.

The experience wasn't that bad, I guess. Because of it, strange faces weren't so strange anymore. With time, I got to know those faces. The faces in that group had a mix of kind, intelligent, childish, stoic, moronic… well, you get the point. Each face had its own unique quirk.

One particular face definitely stood out.

He wasn't overly handsome or anything. He certainly wasn't one of the hot models (with six-pack abs) I swooned over. He didn't even have that sexy DJ voice!

I don't know what the hell came over me. Maybe it was his charming personality. Maybe it was the fact that he managed to somehow yank laughs out of my tiny, bitter heart.

Maybe he has some kind of voodoo control over me or something.

I think he was testing his voodoo skills when he texted me out of the blue. I didn't even know how he got my number. I bet he has magic.

Sadly, my theory was wrong. He admitted to somehow weaseling my phone number out of one of my friends.

Did you know what it was he texted me about? Homework. What about homework? Copy. He wanted to copy my homework. No, not "Please help me with the homework." It was "Yo Imma copy your homework. Give it to me."

Well… he didn't really say that. But he _did_ text me about letting him copy my homework. You know what the biggest problem is? The homework was for a Math subject. _Math._ Damn. I can't even be bothered to look for _x_ and _y_. Why would I let him copy my homework when it didn't even exist in the first place?

Then he said that he was just joking. A _joke._ A joke that wasn't even close to a joke.

But, hey, I laughed. I laughed because he thought I was good at Math.

I laughed because I couldn't believe he was talking to me.

And so it ensued. A text about homework became a text about goofy stories. Stories became jokes. Random jokes became teasing. Good-natured teasing became flirting. Awkward flirting became overt.

Those texts became calls.

Hey, I'm a girl. There's some kind of unspoken girl code that instructs me to be 'hard-to-get' to some extent, so I never called. He was the one who kept calling me.

The calls took place every night, the time when both of us were bored. Or maybe we both were just craving for someone to talk to.

It was obvious that we got along. Face-to-face though… now that was another story.

Sure, we talk at school. But, it's just that. Talking. Talking like we were acquaintances meeting again after thirty years of not speaking with each other.

It was frustrating.

"Hi," he said.

"Hello," I replied.

After that: nothing. It's like all those late night conversations never happened.

The worst part of it was after the usual awkward encounter at school, we just continue on throwing witty texts back and forth later that night. Then we meet again at school and crickets and tumbleweeds seemed to emerge out of nowhere.

The situation was even more so infuriating because we both knew that there was _something_ between us.

And then, there was nothing.

Nada.

Nil.

Zilch.

Zip.

I don't know what the heck happened. Just last night we were talking about what kind of child Hitler would have, and then '_Poof!'_ Everything was gone.

We didn't talk for at least a month.

And for that month I see him flirting with different girls.

And I know that he knows that I too flirt with other boys.

Maybe it was a sign, but it was a sign I chose to ignore when the new term approached. I don't remember exactly when, but I do remember that he texted me again when I was still ecstatic with the idea that I was finally a sophomore.

With that text, the cycle started again. Text, call, flirt. This time though, he replaced the 'flirt with other people' phase with the 'courting' phase.

That was so… well, sweet of him. I didn't know that there were still some guys born in this century who had the mind to court. I thought that in this generation a girl and a boy instantly became a couple when one frankly asks "Will you go out with me?" I thought that couples were united with a simple (but obnoxious) 'Boy is in a relationship with Girl' or 'Bitch is now married to Bastard' status update in a social networking website.

Courtship was definitely a refreshing breeze.

Hey, it wasn't like I wasn't courted before. I for one had many suitors. (Ahem.) But despite my abundance (ahem) of potential lovers, not one of them stuck around that long. They either got bored of my beauty—but seriously, I don't think that was _ever_ a reason—or they find a practically half naked trollop who had no reservations, and thus would be the instagirlfriend of their dreams.

This one though, _he_ stayed long enough to make me say yes.

He was a perfect gentleman throughout the whole courting thing. He was the gentleman grandmas had when they were young. He bought me flowers and chocolate and stuffed toys (cliché I know), he said sweet things (nothing poetic though), he walked me home (which was in the opposite direction of his home), and he always brought me my favorite food.

The last one was definitely what made me say yes. I'm sure of it.

The moment I said yes, I swear a choir sang a chorus. The moment I said yes, I swear the clouds cleared to make way for the sun and multiple rainbows.

The moment I said yes, I swear I started to see things brighter.

Hearts and flowers were everywhere.

We were happy together.

But happiness comes with a price. My happiness with him cost me everything else.

I was so wrapped up in his arms that my vision narrowed. All I saw was him.

My priorities were screwed. Academics seemed to matter so little. Friends and family mattered even less so.

I tried to set it straight, but still, I squeezed him in. We had study dates together, group dates with my friends, though I never introduced him to my family. That would be outright torture.

Regardless of my efforts, the plan did not work. He was very distracting whenever I was up for studying (it wasn't the _good_ kind of distracting either), my friends seemed to think that I was pushing them farther since I only talk to him during our group outings (he wasn't very comfortable with my circle of friends), and my family thought I was going through a rebellion since I was never home.

These efforts sprouted one thing though.

Clinginess.

I was too clingy, he said.

Is it bad that I tried?

We should cool off, he said.

I guess I tried too hard. I tried to have everything, but in the end I get nothing.

Surely boys like it when they are monopolized. He did it to me and I only followed his lead. When we started our relationship, all he wanted was that we be wrapped around each other's arms. Always.

During classes, he talked to me. Throughout breaks, he was with me. After school, he would take me to a restaurant. On weekends, we would have movie marathons.

I was only returning the favor; although I had my friends with me. Maybe that was the problem.

Being the idiot I am, I try again. Only this time, I snoop around first.

Couples nowadays switch phones, which is basically a teenager's whole life. When there are phones, there are passwords. With one password, I gain access to his social networking profile.

And there, _there_, I see it. He's been talking to another girl. A trollop.

It wasn't even 'just a friendly chat', as he so fondly called it. It was the kind of chat that started our relationship. Heck, it was the kind of chat long-term couples had.

They even exchanged phone numbers.

He gave a phone number that wasn't the one I've been calling or texting.

I confronted him about it. Do you know what he said?

"You're so childish. Be mature for a change."

I know that I am childish. Who isn't? I love chocolate milk and candies. I like the feeling of pajamas on me the whole day. I enjoy spending time with my family.

But for him to say that me being childish was the reason why he was clearly two-timing me...

That bastard.

Sure enough, a few days after my outburst, I see the status update 'Bitch is now married to Bastard'.

I'd say that I don't care, but it hurt. It hurt so badly. For him to throw away everything we had just because I was 'childish' was the end of my existence.

For a whole week, I lock myself in my room with only a gigantic tub of dark chocolate ice cream, my laptop, and several boxes of tissues to keep me company. For the whole week, I immersed myself into different Korean dramas.

I cut all the classes I have with him. Because of that action, my grades predictably plummeted to hell.

My parents almost disowned me. For me to sink this low when he was holding hands with his minx while running into the sunset...

Look what he did to me.

"No," my best friend said. "Look what _you_ did to yourself."

She was right. _I_ did this.

I was the one who chose to be weak.

I was the one who chose to suffer.

I was the one who chose to run away.

I was the idiot.

With that revelation, a wave of vigor rushed through me.

"I will not let this continue. Self deterioration was never on my agenda."

I am a female specimen after all. I am a woman; a damn independent woman at that. I can take care of myself. I don't need anyone to make me happy because I can do that on my own. I don't need anyone to support me when I already am. (Although, a little help from my friends and family would be nice.)

They say love conquers everything. They are wrong. I don't know who _they_ are. I don't _care_ who they are. They are wrong. Love does _not _conquer everything.

Love did not conquer _me_.

_I_ conquered love.

-:-:-:-:-

A/N: Guess who the characters are.


	2. The Idiotic Doll

The Idiotic Doll

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A/N: There are four year gaps between each part.

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_Pre-school_

I am in love.

I mean, I think I am. I am in love, aren't I? My friends said I was. My younger sister very secretively (she yelled "Onee-chan's gonna get married!" as I chased her all around the supermarket) told me so. Even my puppy seemed to know!

Oh but... am I really? I'm just four years old after all. Mommy said that only adults like her fell in love. Only adults can fall in love because falling in love is a serious business, she said.

So... am I really? But I can't be... I'm not a grown-up yet.

I don't even talk with the boy when it's breaktime, let alone play with him and his "manly" dolls.

Honestly, I don't even like him. Papa always said "Honesty is the best-" Um. What's the word? Po... Poti... Poci... Poli-

Policy! Honesty is the best policy!

But... I don't even know what 'policy' means...

"Oof!" Owwie. Someone pushed me.

He's standing in front if me, his action figure clutched between his chubby hands. Why does he even play with it? I don't understand why boys would pretend that the toys would suddenly have superpowers just because they want them to... It doesn't work that way... Only real superheroes have real superpowers.

"I'm sowwy. Ah you oh-kay?" he asked, but he doesn't help me up from the dirty playground dirt because his hands are too full of his precious manly dolls. Hmph.

I don't think he was sorry for one bit. He kept on pushing me but he never helped me up! He already pushed me two times a while ago and he said sorry too but he did not look like he was sorry!

Why did my everyone say that I love him? He's being so so so mean to me! Why would I love him?!

-:-:-:-:-

_Grade school_

"Hey, hey. I heard your one true love got punished by sensei again," my classmate giggled. Why was she talking to me? We've never talked before. Everyone usually avoids me.

Because they know I'm a freak.

"Who?" I asked, not looking up from my notes.

"Oh, pssh. Everyone in the Elementary division knows you've been in love with him since you two were babies," she giggled again, twirling a lock of her curly brown hair.

Ah. It's that guy she's talking about. Why would I be in love with the goofiest, most annoying boy in school? This girl must be crazy.

Instead of responding, I focus on my notes. The girl will eventually leave me alone if not paid attention to. All kids my age constantly want attention, but not me. I don't want attention.

"Hello!" a loud, super_annoying_ voice called out. "May I sit here?"

It's snack time now and I look up from my seat in the grass and get rewarded with a snot filled sight.

He's so gross looking. His light hair was spotted here and there with unidentifiable dirt, as is every other part of his body. His knees and elbows were covered in red, angry streaks and, ugh, his face and his fingers were fudged with - _ugh_ - snot.

Without waiting for my answer, he sits down beside me anyway. He smells like rotten sweat. Ew.

"Hey! I missed you!" he grinned after turning his innocent blue eyes toward me.

Oh, if only I could pull out those orbs and put them in a see-through jar and place it on a shelf so that I could stare at them all day. His luminescent blue eyes are so beautiful.

But that's illegal. And weird. And I'm sure I won't put up with his nonstop blabber mouth if he doesn't have those eyes.

"You talked to me less than an hour ago," I muttered between bites of my chicken and lettuce sandwich.

"That's still too long! I missed you I missed you I missed you!" he exclaimed, bouncing up and down, his infectious grin has yet to dissolve.

"Be quiet." Really. I can't believe I endure this torture just for those pastel blue eyes.

-:-:-:-:-

_Middle school_

"Who are you talking to?" snickered one of my tormentors.

"Where are your friends, huh? Why can't we see them?" laughed another.

"Why don't you call them to show them to us?" sneered the third.

I ignored them, as usual. It wouldn't do any good to acknowledge these neanderthals.

"Don't pretend that were not here!" One pushes me back to the wall, another throws the book I was reading, and the last forces my chin up.

"You think you're better than us just because some weirdos want you to be the star of their weird show?" she cackled. "Well you're wrong so don't go about acting like you're royalty."

"...What?" I breathed, finally snapping out of disbelief from their idiotic logic.

My confusion seemed to fuel their ire even more. I don't understand why they need to do this to me. I've never tried to anger them. I even make an effort to avoid everyone.

"You..." She doesn't finish her sentence. Instead, she raised her right hand up high, getting ready.

"Stop!"

But my savior was too late. The loud smack of flesh against flesh resounded throughout the entire room just a millisecond after the cry of objection.

The three scrambled after my savior shoved them away from me.

It stings. I think I have a cut from the ring my heckler was wearing.

He does not come near me immediately as he was still shaking with restrained rage.

"Are you alright?" I asked. The irony of the whole thing was not lost on either of us.

He sighed and finally stepped toward me rather than answering my inquiry. He fixed my hair and wiped the blood off my face. He was silent the whole time.

I have never, _never_ experienced silence whenever I was with him.

"Hey, let's go to my place! I want to show you the new action figure I got from my grand uncle!" he finally blurted out, a forced smile in place.

He was good at forcing smiles. Almost as good as me.

But then, when we were together, they were easily decoded.

"Sure. Let's stop by my house first," I forced a smile too, reaching out for one of his clenched fists. "We have cupcakes."

-:-:-:-:-

_High school_

"Oi, when are you going to attend school again?" asked a familiar baritone. The voice came from behind me, most likely the owner of the arms braced around my waist.

"Who said you had permission to touch me?" I hissed through my clenched teeth. This guy really doesn't have any idea how much his actions affect me.

"You didn't answer my question," he tsked playfully.

"You didn't take your hands off me," I countered, tediously focusing on the carnations I was watering.

"If I do as you say, will you answer my question?"

"Probably."

"If I do as you say, will you help me wil the Geometry homework?"

"Definitely not."

"Aw, pretty please?" He took the watering can from me to set it aside and stood in front of me. He gently laid his palm to my cheek and tenderly raised my head. I was rewarded with a stunning sight.

His eyes were as beautiful as ever. They were the same shade as the endless blue sky, promising wonderful promises I'm sure the owner would painstakingly keep no matter what. His light blue eyes were framed with equally light windswept hair. Having his hair like that suits him perfectly. I'm surprised that they look somewhat acceptable because I'm sure he doesn't know what a comb is. His plump lips were sporting a breathtaking smile instead of the usual cocky grin.

I think my heart skipped a beat.

"You look beautiful, as always," he murmured, tucking a tuft of my dark hair behind my ear. "It's like I have a life-sized doll in front of me."

"I certainly hope I don't look like one of _your_ dolls," I laughed, placing my hand on top of his.

"Definitely not," he mimiced, chuckling as he let go of me. He picked up the white, slightly rusty watering can and continued soaking the dehydrated flowers. "So, when are you coming to school again?"

_I don't know._ "Maybe tomorrow," I said in spite of the fact that every fiber of my being knows it is not so.

"You are a terrible liar," he whispered, facing away from me. Even though I can't see his face, I know for sure that his eyes are closed and his lips were mashed together. Even though his hands were angled away from me, I know that they were clenched. Even though he doesn't want to show that he's dissapointed, I know that he is.

"I know."

The deafening silence streched on and on and on. I wish that he would just open his chatterbox of a mouth.

He finally says something after two minutes of tense stillness, but he does not face me.

"How long will you be gone this time?"

"...I have to shoot next week's episode in an abandoned hospital located at the outskirts of Sapporo."

"Do you have to go?"

"..."

"How long will you be gone?" he repeated, turning around to face me with furious azure intensity.

_I don't know._ "Only a few days."

"You are a terrible liar."

"I know."

It was less than twenty-four hours later that my own personal pandemonium ensued.

"I sense only two prominent spirits lurking here. One is sucking the lesser spirits' enery force, while the other one is protecting them," I droned, punching my hands into the front pockets of my jeans.

Tuning out everyone else was an effective strategy when I was actually eyeing the malevolent force while these idiots frolicked about with their film equipment. This is so troublesome. I can't believe I agreed to doing this when I can be home right now with...

"And that's a wrap! Great job everyone!" A thunder-like clap signalling the end of the day, which is kind of apt because it's already way past sunset, and everyone was dead tired.

"Miss, you have a phone call. It's your mother."

My mother? What does she want now? It's bad enough that she's forcing me to do this. I bet she has another 'opportunity' for me.

"Dear, where are you?" asked the scratchy voice from over the line. "It's your best friend, honey. He was beaten by thugs after he bought something from a hewelry shop. He's currently in the operating room. The doctors say that he has fractured his skull and..."

I tune her out. I tune everyone out even as they ask me what's wrong, what happened, if I am fine. I don't know the answers to their questions.

It was the next day when the train ultimately dropped me at the Tokyo station.

Alone, I took a cab from my drop point to the hospital. I knocked a lady away from the vehicle a while ago. She sweared at me with three different languages.

Once we stopped, I threw my whole wallet at the driver. Once I'm out of the elevator, I threw myself at my mother. She was sobbing hysterically.

"Dear, you're too late."

_No._

"Dear, he's gone."

_NO._

"He left this for you."

A small thumb-sized fugure rests on my mother's outstretched hand. It was a doll wearing a traditional kimono.

It looks exactly like me.

"This was one of the things he was keeping from the thugs who k-ki..." Mother cries again.

_What's the other one?_ I mentally ask, not trusting my voice. Somehow, she heard me.

She handed me a necklace mutely. It had a simple ring as a pendant. The outside of the ring had no designs, no patterns. It was a simple band.

Inside, three words were embedded.

-:-:-:-:-

A/N: Who the female character in this one is pretty obvious, don't you think? I consider this story as a peek into her past, so does it count as canon? Maybe even canon-ish? The guy is an OC.


	3. Searching for Idiotic Answers

Searching for Idiotic Answers

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My high school experience was what I considered successful, if not boring. I was a perfect student, as my peers and educators had said. I was at the top of my class, despite having advanced classes. I was an active member and officer for three clubs. The first was the newspaper club, the second was the school orchestra, and the third is... a secret. I had been in the student council for the whole duration, the secretary in my freshman year, and the president for the last two years.

Now, I know that I was definitely not a perfect student. Ever since I entered the elite University of Tokyo, I questioned my perfection every day. Sure, I had good grades. Sure, I was a good club member. Sure, I was a good president.

But that was it. I was good, not _great_.

Compared to the students here at Tokyo University, I was definitely at the bottom half—no, that's too generous. I was at the bottom third. Or fourth.

Most of the kids here at this university were amazing. They excelled at what they did. They were great students, great club members, great leaders.

More importantly, they knew what they wanted.

They were here for a reason. They had set their goals. They wanted to do something with their lives. In the near future, they would be working their dream jobs. They would be living their lives as they wanted.

Did I have a goal?

Was I living my own life?

For my first semester as a pre-law student, I refused to answer those questions. I made myself as busy as I had been when I was a high school student. I immersed myself into my studies, I joined several organizations, and I dubbed myself as the president of my block.

But as I was avoiding the answer to those two questions, I had realized something else.

Here, at the most elite university of Japan, not a single student was near perfection. Every student had problems to take care of, worries to ignore, obligations to complete. Blood, sweat and tears have been shed. Did a perfect student do those?

I bet most of the young 'adults' here were also wrongly accused of being 'perfect students' when they were still in pre-school, grade school and high school, but now, as all 'perfect students' coexisted with each other, I can confidently say that not one is near perfection. Including me, I guess.

All of us were rash. All of us were stupid. We were all just 'young adults' grasping for something—just _something_—that will explain what the hell we were doing in this world. Most importantly, we were all human. Humans aren't perfect. Humans will never be perfect.

Still, those other imperfect students knew something I didn't know. They knew what they wanted. They were not drones. They did not mindlessly follow any command educators throw at them. They thought for themselves. That's something _I_ want for myself.

However, at this very moment, I must absolutely focus on my needs instead of my wants.

Food. I need food.

On my first few weeks here at Todai (Tokyo Daigaku), my mother had insisted on sending me homemade dishes. I was an only child, therefore I was—am—spoiled shit-less.

Anyhoo, despite the fact that I still could have lived at home instead of living in a dormitory, it was my father who kicked me out. My mother had vehemently disapproved, but sadly, she lost the battle. In her rebellion, she had decided to send me food even though my father had said that I was to live an utterly independent life.

Though after three weeks of tediously cooking, packing, and sending me hot plates of food, I guess my mother got tired of it and eventually she accepted that my stomach could go and rot in hell.

Being spoiled shit-less meant that I had everything I coveted. Be it toys, food, or whatever. Toys were instantly bought, food was immediately cooked, whatever was whatever. The bad thing about that was for all my life, I have never ever eaten anything other than homemade dishes. I've never eaten fast food or junk food, and those were my only options right now.

Yesterday, I tried eating fast food. It was delicious, but at the same time gross. The meal I ordered looked very appealing to the eyes, though I really wasn't sure what the hell was in it. I didn't know whether to gobble it up 'cause I was so hungry, or to find my father and fling it right into his face. Eating the glob was one of the lowest experiences in my life.

I tried junk food for breakfast a while ago. I bought two bags of chips. Today was the first time I tasted some (unbelievable, right?) and it was glo-ri-ous. I loved the saltiness and the crunchyness and the whole idea of disobeying one of my mother's rules.

Since I've already started, why not continue? I remember her saying never to eat instant ramen, be it in cup form or cookable form. She said that all those preservatives are bad and it'll make me fat and unhealthy. Actually, she despised anything instant. Whenever I ask for anything remotely close to food with just a hint of preservatives, she would hardheadedly try to cook it for me instead.

"Oy, don't pick that one. It's full of yucky dried vegetables," said a girl in the university's designated baggy sweater and baggy pants, handing me another brand of cup ramen.

She was kinda short (well, short for a college student) so because of that I had to guess that she was a freshman like me. She had long light brown hair flowing perfectly behind her, and the long collar of her jacket covered half of her face so all I could see were her glaring eyes. They were the scariest, toughest, most beautiful amber eyes I've ever seen.

When I didn't respond (because somehow I've been magically turned into a fish), she took one of her own cup ramen, paid for it at the cash register, and left the convenience store without another word.

What a strange girl.

It was a week later after the incident when we met again, but at a different place. I had just started with my pop-tart addiction the day before, and I sprinted through the entire supermarket like a crazed maniac trying to find a box.

"Strawberry tastes better than chocolate, idiot," she said, violently plucking my box of chocolate pop-tarts and shoving three boxes of strawberry flavored ones in its stead. She disappeared once again, while I dubiously tried to comprehend what just happened.

I've hated anything tasting like strawberries all my life, so I asked my dear self, out loud if I may add, why the hell I was chewing strawberry flavored pop-tarts the second after I paid for them. I tried not to barf it out and gruelingly endured eating it until the end. I don't know why I did it.

I saw the girl again the next day, though this time I wasn't buying any junk. It was out at a corner of one of the many fields the campus had. She was with a boy, maybe a year older than me, who was as nervous as a wild boar being chased by a hungry tiger.

An infinite moment ticked by before the boy finally sputtered out, "P-please go out with me!"

_Oh, dear little adorable me, eavesdropping is a very very naughty deed._

"You dragged me out here just for that?" she scoffed. She walked away without saying anything more. The boy and I already knew what her answer was anyway.

Watching a dejected boy dramatically curse at the heavens really wasn't my kind of thing; thus, I happily skipped away. I was suddenly in such a merry mood. I did not know why, and I did not question it.

After that little encounter, I didn't see her again for a while—or maybe I just didn't notice her because of all the work I've been swarming myself with (though I doubt that I would ever ignore her distinct features). The rest of the semester and summer vacation had come and gone, and I still don't know the answers to my own questions.

The new term had just begun, and like before, I drowned myself with endless work just so I couldn't... _think_ about what I was doing. I did my assignments, because I am a good student. I attended every meeting in the organizations I joined, because I am a good member. I lead my block through every class, because I am a good leader.

My father even visited once, and I told him that I was happy here. I told him that because I don't want him to worry about me.

I told him that because I am a good son.

When my father went home, I couldn't stand being alone in my dorm room, so I left. I wandered around the campus, observing other people and ignoring them at the same time. I walked and walked and walked with no direction in mind. For a long while, I went on like that only to be stopped by exhaustion and a flying lollipop to the back of my head.

"You look so pathetic."

Hearing her familiar voice, and her ever patronizing tone, I looked up from staring at the gorgeous grass (Ooh, are those beetles I've lain eyes on?) and saw the strange girl. I apparently traipsed over to where the girls' dormitories were. She was leaning over one of the balconies on the second floor.

"Yes I do, don't I?" I mused, not sure whether to her or to myself. I lowered my eyes, but instead of spying grass again, I've been graced with the presence of mountains over mountains of empty wrappers of processed food exactly under the balcony she was on. If my memory would serve right, the trash bins were supposed to be out back, right?

"Hey, you owe me," she said, looking at her nails.

"How do I owe you?" I asked, still gaping at the garbage in front of me.

"I saved you from two life changing decisions, so that means you owe me twice."

"Life changing?"

"Yes."

We stayed like that until we both realized that we looked stupid talking in that manner. She was leaning over a balcony so far that she might fall over, and I was stretching my neck just so I can see her. I was even directly in front of garbage.

"Come up for a second. I'll just change my clothes. 202."

_What?_

I thought about it for more than a quarter of an hour, though of course I decided to go. Helpless, and morbidly curious, I went inside the low-rise building and climbed the stairs to the girl's room. I lifted my hand to knock on her door, but I noticed that it's open an orange width's gap from the jamb.

"Um, hello?"

Her apartment was pretty impressive for a college student. It was spacious here, the furniture was elegant-looking, and she had a big-ass flat screen television. Pretty impressive.

But wait.

What was that weird smell?

I shuffled forward to the kitchen, pinching my nose using a forefinger and a thumb all the while. Lo and behold the sink full of unclean dishes, unidentifiable goop, and unmentionable chunks floating around. Every corner—actually, every inch of the kitchen floor—was covered with smelly… stuff. I don't know how else I'd call those.

The OCD god has possessed me.

"HEEEEEEEY! WHERE ARE YOU? LET ME CLEAN YOUR KITCHEN!"

I picked the door most likely to be the bedroom and yanked it out of its jamb.

"Hey I—Why the hell are you asleep?"

The girl was curled up in the middle of a western-styled bed framed with frills and throw pillows and other girly shiz. Her hands were tucked under her cheek while she slept peacefully. How the heck did she manage to go under a deep slumber when I had just been talking to her a while ago?

What do I do? Do I wake her up? Do I just leave?

She shifted unconsciously causing her shirt to expose her belly.

I blushed.

"Arg," I groaned. I'll just clean the damn kitchen.

And clean the damn kitchen I did.

I spent the rest of the afternoon scrubbing and dubbing. Scrub a dub dub. The noises that filled the area consisted of water whooshing, cloth squeaking, bubbles popping, and occasional colorful cussing from me.

The girl woke up conveniently subsequently after I finished my self-imposed task.

"Why are you lying down on my carpet?"

"Because I'm tired."

"Why are you tired?

"Take a look around your kitchen."

She left me alone in the living room. She came running back after a short moment.

"You still owe me."

"I don't owe you anything."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"…"

"…"

"Stay for dinner. I'm gonna cook something."

This is so weird.

She went back to the kitchen and left me alone again. What's for dinner, I wonder? I hope it's tempura. Or curry rice. I haven't had a homemade dish in ages.

"Oy, I'm done!"

Wha? It's only been one… two… _seven_ minutes since she declared that she was making dinner. Maybe she pre-prepared the food?

"Bon appétit."

I shouldn't have hoped. Disappointment and despair weighed heavily in my chest as I stared blankly at the plate in front of me.

"Itadakimasu. Aren't you going to eat?" the girl asked, an eyebrow lifted.

"…Itadakimasu," I echoed rather miserably, still staring at the platter of instant curry on the table. Well, I thought, This was still better that cup ramen.

Names and other pleasantries were exchanged, but after that, awkward silence controlled the air. I ate and tried to hold the food down (it was so disgusting), while she poked the mush.

This is so weird.

"So, you're a freshman, right? What course are you taking?" she asked, abandoning her food.

"Uh, Political Science. I'll be attending law school when I finish," I answered while adjusting my glasses.

"What a coincidence. I'm taking my pre-law too. BS Psychology," she grinned. "I can read your mind just by observing your body language," she cackled. "In just five more years I'll be starting my career as a successful prosecutor."

"Wait, five? So you're a… you're—"

"Two years older than you? Yes," she smiled diabolically.

"Ye-yeah, well," I stammered, clearing my throat. I decided to change the subject. "A prosecutor? Why not a defense attorney?"

"'Cause both my parents are defense attorneys already, and since I'm pretty good at winning arguments with them," she smirked, "I decided to be a prosecutor."

"I'm envious," I admitted. "Unlike you, I don't have a goal set in mind."

"Then why are you here?"

Why was I here?

Not an answer, not even a theory, came to my mind concerning my questions. I thought about them day and night. Still nothing.

To distract myself, I visited the girl periodically to check on her because, _geez_, this girl cannot keep her place clean. I visited at least once a week, and for every visit it's like I was walking into an emancipated ten-year-old's playroom.

It was as if I was playing a real life role-playing game with a malfunctioning save point. I kept going back to the same situation again and again no matter how many times I finished the level.

Anyway, in spite of the torture, I gained something from my eternal cleaning spree. I gained a friend.

"Wipe that disturbing smile off your face. It's creeping me out."

Honest statements like that were just what I like hearing from her. They make me want to just pour my heart out to her and tell her all about my worries.

God, when had I become such a sap?

We were at her living room that day. Both of us had no classes that day so we just sat around, watching mindless television and playing mind-numbing video games.

Summoning my wits, I finally asked her, underhandedly, for advice on my dilemma. She was silent for a while, thinking hard as she munched on a melon bun while she counted her (strawberry) Pocky sticks.

"What do you want to be?"

No one had ever asked me that before. I did not answer because I had nothing to answer.

_I don't know._

Our peculiar get-togethers somewhat became our norm as two months of me cleaning the ever-cruddy apartment, her cooking commercially prepared food and us constantly bickering passed. She also asked that question now and again. I never answered once.

That question plagued me with as much force as the ones before it. Doubly more, even. The answers seemed to evade me for some reason or another. Maybe they're allergic to me.

Did I have a goal?

Was I living my own life?

What do I want to be?

It was when I was pondering (again) each and every possible solution there was to these three questions that a very strict, very demanding, very _petulant_ professor decided to pick on me.

"Well, well," he drawled, snaking his way to my seat. "I see that you are concentrating so hard that you don't even hear me calling out your name. Three times, might I add."

I gulped. My classmates' united sniggers resounded against the spacious room's walls.

"Let's hope for your sake that you've been mulling over the answer to my question," he hummed, not a hint of smugness in his cold tone despite his choice of words.

The class ended after a pathetic joke, a stern gaze, some more sniggers, and an hour of trying not to fall asleep. In the midst of considering what not to eat for dinner, I was presented with a circumstance I did not think I would experience again after the day I graduated grade school.

Le educator had just demanded to talk to me the moment class had ended.

This was… refreshing. Ha.

The professor waited for the rest of his class to leave before starting his sermon for a single audience. It took a few moments before my immature classmates left because they were still basking in my misfortune. Some of them were even throwing flying kisses at me. I simply tried to ignore them, but really, for the past five minutes, I have been trying to force them all out faster with whatever psychic powers I had. It didn't work.

"Young man," the stoic teacher started. "I do believe that you aren't normally like this during my class. Against popular belief, I actually care about my students."

We both laughed quietly, awkwardly in my case.

"What is it that takes up almost all the space of that head of yours? My six decade old wisdom might come to help you," he chortled, coughing a couple of times.

I considered lying, but decided against it. I was desperate after all.

"I… I don't know what to do with my life," I said, finally gathering enough courage to say it aloud.

He didn't see anything funny about my idiocy as I had falsely predicted. "Everyone comes to that point in their lives too. Don't worry and just _live_." He smiled a toothy grin. "It took me nearly half a century to discover myself. It won't take as much time for you, I know it."

I stumbled out of the building later, still dazed. Deep in the recesses of my stupid head was where the answers I needed hid. I just had to dig.

Unfortunately, digging meant not looking where you're going, and so I had collided fiercely with something.

Or some_one_.

"Hey! I've been looking for you since forever!" exclaimed a wildly beaming girl. Her short hair was frazzled around her small face from running (because she's always running). She was practically bouncing before me, and it seems as though she would burst with excitement at any given moment.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying hard to restrain myself from bouncing with her. I felt the rise of an equally wild beam on my lips.

This girl has been a good friend of mine since we've met at her part-time job. The boss hired me too and it only strengthened our friendship even more because of all the time we spent together.

"Today's the last day of entrance exams. The testing center is near here so I decided to visit you," she explained, both our smiles never faltering. "Anyway, I asked around about where you were and can you believe popular you are? You haven't even been here a year and you're already famous!" she scoffed, punching my shoulder. Ow.

I rubbed my sore shoulder and told her, "What can I say? I'm a lovable guy."

"Dude. No." She giggled. "Buy me some food. I'm starving."

"You're always starving," I deadpanned. "Well, little girl, I'm a bit short on cash right now. How 'bout I cook something for you instead?"

She gasped theatrically. "You cook now? Oh how college changes an individual."

"Shut up. Come on. We have a long trek. Hurry up if you want to eat sooner."

I wasn't kidding when I said we had a long trek. The economics building was halfway across the university from the dorms. Good thing our usual banters seemed to cut the travel time short.

"Uh, hey. You do know that we're at the girls' side of the lot, right? That sign says so."

I looked at her with a dubious expression on my face. _Oh yeah, I forgot to tell her_, I thought, mentally slapping myself. "All my food is in there."

"Why?"

"My pet tiger is guarding them."

Before she could mutter another word, I dragged her in and up to the second floor. I rang the doorbell.

_Ring._

"Open up! It's me."

The door stayed shut. I rang again.

_Ring ring ring ring._

The door opened.

"What." It wasn't a question.

A… vertically, um, challenged girl stood in the middle of the opening and it seems like she has only woken up. Her long hair was currently similar to a vulture's nest, a large tee and boy shorts hung on her thin frame. She was mid-yawn too.

"Good morning."

"Don't be a sarcastic butt." She stuck her tongue out. "I know it's already way past morning," she said, rolling her amber eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Early dinner," I retorted. "This is my friend, M, from the part-time job I told you about," I said, gesturing at the girl beside me. "M, this is my pet tiger." I patted the head of the person in front of me.

The tiger smiled at M and merely sneered at me before she went inside, where she's probably planning on snoozing again.

"Don't worry, M," I reassured. "She's just a bit antisocial. Nothing personal."

M nodded, but she still looked fairly unsure.

Is it weird that I call her with just the first letter of her name? Yeah well, she's called me with more… interesting… and uh, creative nicknames before so don't blame me for giving up.

"So, Tanuki," she quipped. I could already see the mischief beneath her eyes. She leaned towards me, closing in on my personal space. "Who's she?" she asked, trying and failing to whisper.

"Are you deaf?" I tsked. "She's my pet tiger."

"Psh. You know what I mean," she smirked as she wiggled her eyebrows. "Whatever. I'm hungry. Feed me."

"Geez, you're as bad as the tiger."

Early dinner went off without a hitch. M and the tiger got along surprisingly easily (but I think it was mostly because M kept on cleaning every piece of dirt she encountered). M was just as surprised as I was when I told her that the tiger was two years older than me. Three for her.

"Hey tiny—"

"Don't call me tiny!"

"You know, you are kinda sho—"

"NO! Stop stop stop! That's the forbidden word!"

"What word? _Short?_ Gah!"

M found us sprawled, entangled together on the living room floor. Not that we noticed though. The tiger pulled my hair and bit my forearm while all I could do was scream and whine like a five-year-old boy.

"Hey, hey! Break it up you guys!" M yelled, bemusedly dragging the tiger and kicking me away. "Tanuki, I need to go now else I might miss my bus."

"Sure, just give me a moment," I groaned. I have been cursed with blood-thirsty friends.

"It was a pleasure meeting you," M said, smiling sweetly at the tiger. "I'll visit soon, 'kay? But you know, I might attend Todai too," she sang, winking exaggeratedly. Twice.

"Keep all your fingers crossed," I teased. "All your toes too."

"Oh, shut your trap. Leggo, I'm gonna miss my bus." She yanked my arm. "Bye!"

We walked in silence for a while. It wasn't an uncomfortable kind of silence. We've been through too much for any other type of silence.

"You're not late for the bus," I pointed out, clucking my tongue in mock disappointment.

M giggled. "How did you know?"

"You always ride the train, never a bus."

"Alright, you got me," she admitted. "I only wanted to talk to you alone. What's wrong with that?"

"Oh, M. I've known all along," I sighed, overtly crossing my hands over my chest. "You've been in love with me since the first moment you laid eyes on my handsome face."

She interlaced her fingers together under her chin and widened her eyes. "My dear Tanuki, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because our controlling boss might kill me for stealing you away from him, my lovely darling."

We laughed like crazy on the streets of Todai. It didn't matter that we looked like we've lost our minds. There were people here at this university much weirder than us. Art majors for example. Ahem.

"So," she piped. "How long have you two been together?"

Didn't say I never saw this coming. I snorted. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

She glared at me as I glared at her. Our staring contest lasted at least five minutes before I gave up.

"Remember the pact we made last year?"

"We made a million pacts."

"The one about new relationships and telling each other first."

"Then what's holding you back from going for it? I've seen the way you look at her."

"What's holding _you_ back?"

"Don't throw my own words back at me!"

"I've seen the way you look at him.

M groaned. "Look, Tanuki, if you don't want to talk about it then just tell me. Don't go all lawyer-y on me." She stuck her tongue out childishly.

"Okay," I grinned. "So. College, huh? You've finally decided then?"

"Yeah, but mostly because that fellow pushed me to," she pouted. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. "'You can't work here forever. I'm going to fire you eventually,'" she said, poorly mimicking the boss' emotionless tone.

"He's right you know."

"Don't take his side," she huffed. "I don't know which course to take though. I actually don't know what to do with my life," she mused.

_Me neither._

"You too?"

"What?"

"You said 'me neither'."

"Oh. I said that out loud?"

"Yes. You're weird."

"We're both weird."

"Everyone's weird."

We laughed again. Maybe to other people we looked like two drunk morons.

M sobered first. "What did you mean by 'me neither'?"

I stayed quiet for a solid minute. "I don't know why I'm here," I eventually said, looking straight ahead. "I don't even know if I want to be a lawyer."

"...Then what do you want?"

_That question again._ "I DON"T KNOW!"

Silence reigned. Wow. I had finally snapped.

M looked at me calmly as I breathed heavily.

Then I chuckled. That chuckle instantly turned into a maniacal laugh.

"You've lost yourself," M concluded, mirth dancing around her eyes.

"Nope. I haven't even met myself yet."

We said our good-byes and I'll-miss-yous while blocking a line of people hoping to ride the train. It was pretty sappy, but M killed the moment by headbutting me.

"She got home fine," I informed the tiger. We were eating lunch at the only tolerable cafeteria there was inside school grounds. "In case you were worried."

"Not worried," she mumbled, cheeks filled with scrambled eggs.

"Okay," I allowed. This girl always keeps a tough front.

"Clean Freak, may I ask you something?" she asked, fidgeting.

"You already are." I was trying hard not to laugh at how cute she was.

Woah. Back up.

_Cute?_

"You've known that girl for a long time now, right?"

"M? No, I met her only a year or two ago. Why do you ask?"

"Do you like her?" she blurted out, twiddling her thumbs.

"Yes."

At my immediate straightforward answer, she slowly turned red in the face. I really have to try and hold my laugh now.

We were momentarily thrown into the realm of uncomfortable tension featuring clanking utensils and chewing jaws.

As we finished our food, the teasing maniac inside me lost the will to keep his mouth shut.

"What? Jealous?"

"NO!"

Almost everyone at the cafeteria stopped what they were doing to gape at us. Who knew the tiger had massive vocal chords.

The blushing girl didn't even notice the stillness. She got up from her seat and left the room. Was it bad that all I could do was drop my head on the fiberglass table to muffle my chuckles?

I guessed that she had holed herself inside her place, so I trudged my way there. True enough, I found my pet tiger under about ten blankets, watching her least favorite tv show.

"I brought candy."

"Go away."

I sighed. "Please don't be mad."

"Go away."

"Is it because of M?"

No response.

I crawled to the video game console under the television and turned it on. I took the two controllers and shoved one under her blankets. We played 'til mid-afternoon. I was the first to speak.

"M asked me the same question."

"...What question?"

"About what I want."

"Ah."

"I still don't know."

She got out of her blanket armor looking as if nothing had happened during lunch. She locked eyes with me for a few seconds (that felt like an eternity) before she said, "You've always been so set on major things. You don't have to think big right away."

"I don't understand."

"Well," she began. "Think of the little things that'll eventually lead you to your goal. For example, what are your hobbies? Favorite pastimes?"

"Uh, playing video games?"

I think she mumbled something like "Stupid" before she said, "Something we can work with, please."

"...I like reading."

"What kinds of books?"

"Suspense, mostly crime fiction. Sometimes horror."

"Crime fiction? Like those mysteries where the protagonist is a detective?"

"Yeah, but sometimes I get bored with some because they're predictable."

She pursed her lips. "How 'bout you try Criminal Justice or Forensic Science?"

"That's... the craziest thing I've ever heard."

"I doubt that," she joked. "What with that part-time job you had last year."

I smirked. "Yeah."

"Hey, you told me that you were mostly in charge of investigating, right? Then why didn't you think of being a detective?"

_Because I wasn't allowed to._ "It, um, slipped my mind?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. Let's go get you a transfer request form."

"You were serious about that?"

"Yes. And this is the only time I've seen you excited about something school related."

"Who's to say I might hate it?"

"Who's to say you might not?"

"..."

"..."

"My father's gonna kill me."

The form stayed with me for some time before I decided, though the longer I thought about the idea of solving impossible conundrums and cracking complicated puzzles, I just got thrilled more and more. I couldn't even believe that I was _excited_ about the future.

When I broke the news to my folks, I was semi-successful. My mother was ecstatic. She approved wholeheartedly and signed the form immediately. My father on the other hand... let's just put it simply and say 'He practically disowned his only son'. He allowed me to shift eventually, at the last minute to be exact. He signed the paper and handed it to me on the day of the deadline, just minutes before the office's closing time.

"Do you think I'll be successful?" I asked the tiger as we walked back to the dorms.

"Of course," she said as she skipped ahead of me, her hands knotted together behind her. I could almost feel the brutal honesty pouring from her words.

"Of course," I mimicked. "I have to be. I can't be partnered to the best prosecutor if I wasn't the best detective."

I yanked her towards me

and kissed her.

She punched me in return.

"You idiot!"

The vivid blush on her astonished face was priceless.

-:-:-:-:-

A/N: I just can't stop making school fics XD I'll do something else for the next one, promise. I hope you liked this one! :)

_._

_030115 Edit (well, not really _'_cause I didn_'_t edit anything): So, I read the whole thing again, and . . . God, I suck at romance._

_Anyhoo. Go on your merry way now. Pretend this whole thing never happened. _


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